


what they want, i don't know

by vandoorne



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Come as Lube, Creampie, Filming, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, Fuck Or Die, Gang Rape, Gangbang, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Masturbation, Nipple Torture, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Nonconathon Treat, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Denial, Possibly Unrequited Love, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Sexual Fantasy, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 08:27:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19808512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vandoorne/pseuds/vandoorne
Summary: for peter and tony, there are only two options: fuck or die.





	what they want, i don't know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kmfillz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kmfillz/gifts).



> peter's age is deliberately not mentioned. this takes place in some nebulous time, so feel free to take it that he's legal, or leave him at his age in infinity war if you like.

See, Peter's pretty sure that he's got a handle on the whole superhero business down pat now. He's hung out with the Avengers. Sort of. Kind of kicked some of their asses. Got his ass kicked. Rounded up a bunch of Chitauri weapons. Defeated some bad guys. Saved some more people. Helped some lost grandmothers find their way. Rescued some lost cats, dogs, rabbits, iguanas... And stopped a couple of robberies. He gets through them fine, mostly. Couple of scrapes, bruises, a cut or two from time to time. Nothing he can't handle, and Karen's always really helpful anyway.

Well, that is, until now. See, he's always been able to handle stuff. He's had to take otherworldly stuff being fired at him, bullets are easy peasy, lemon squeezy. He's a big boy. He can handle those. Sometimes being shot at just means a web or two and then the gun's taken care of.

But tonight is different. Tonight seems too... Too much like a well-scripted police procedural. Almost like Peter is just going through the motions, taking out the bad guys one by one and _oh_ —

'Kid. Hey kid. Wake up, come on.'

Peter groans. The voice is familiar, but right now, there's a fog over his head and all he wants is to go back to sleep. 'Five more minutes,' he mumbles, but instead he's met with a light slap across his face. 'W-what,' he barely manages to get out. His tongue is thick in his mouth, and he can barely speak. He tries to focus. Squeezes his eyes shut, tries to orient himself, then opens his eyes, slowly. 'M-m-mr Stark?' he squeaks, almost jumping in the air.

'Not so loud,' Tony whispers fiercely. 'How are you feeling? Peachy? Bruised? Hurt? Alive?'

'I'm fine,' Peter says hastily. He's not. But wait, why would Tony be here? What's going on?

'You were in danger,' Tony says, voice mild.

'I did _not_ just say that out loud,' Peter says, mortified. His mask is still on, but he's pretty sure that Iron Man, of all people, would be able to see how his face is now bright red underneath his disguise. Well done Peter, excellent job.

'About fucking time you woke up.'

There's the telltale sound of guns cocking and Peter freezes, hardly daring to look up.

'Gentlemen!' Tony says, voice sounding unnaturally cheery. 'Put that away please, that's hardly the way to welcome the kid now, isn't it?'

'Tony Stark.' It's the same person from before. Voice low and gravelly, broad body. Peter doesn't catch sight of his face, but he does however catch sight of Tony being hauled up by his hair and—

Wait, what? By his hair?

'Mr Stark?' Peter asks, voice shaky. 'Are you... Where is your...'

'He's asking for the suit,' Low Voice sneers. 'Bet he thinks the world of you only when you're in that suit, huh. You're nothing to him without it.'

Peter wants to lunge at him, but Tony puts his hand on Peter's shoulder.

'Kid,' Tony says, and Peter stills under his touch.

It's strange. Peter can feel Tony's fingertips on his bare skin, and that means... Oh. _Oh_. He tries to move, but his limbs feel impossibly heavy.

'Well, only one way to find out eh, Tony? Let's see just how much you mean to the Spider-boy over here.'

'It's Spider-man,' Peter interjects. His mind is spinning but he's already having Karen run multiple simulations, there _has_ to be a way in which he can get out of here safely with Tony, never mind how he's actually running low on web fluid... And how his suit has been shredded in multiple places below his shoulders.

'Isn't he adorable,' Low Voice gushes. The guns are nearer now. Pointing at Tony, pointing at Peter. Peter assess the situation, twelve guys holding guns, one Low Voice in front of him, web fluid enough for probably three strings, four if he's lucky... Yeah, no. Not today. And as if Low Voice has read his mind, he leans in, grinning. 'Let me see your pretty face.'

Before Peter can react, his mask is being yanked unceremoniously from his face.

Thing is, Peter's supposed to be able to see properly. But that isn't quite the case, right now. His pupils are blown wide open but everything is unclear, no matter how hard he squints nothing really comes into focus. Did someone hit him on the head? Did someone feed him something strange? He squeezes his eyes shut, and he's able to sense what's going on. There are a number of men, a dozen maybe. They're in some sort of... Parking garage? They are on the second floor, the ceiling is high, there are barely any cars around them. Everyone is heavily armed — at least one rifle or gun per person.

And then there's Tony. Tony, who appears to be defenceless. Whatever happened to his suit? Did someone destroy it? Did he forget to bring a suit? No, Tony would've never forgotten about it. So what is it then? The questions come a mile a minute in Peter's head, and it hurts so fucking much.

'Kid, stay with me here,' Tony says. He's shaking Peter, and Peter nods, numb.

'Mr Stark,' Peter mumbles. Right, someone had torn his mask off. So they know who he is. They know his face. No more hiding.

'Hey hey hey, no sleeping, come on.'

'The boy can take a hit to his head,' Low Voice says. He leans in, and all Peter sees is a flesh coloured blur coming into view. 'Probably needs a couple more before he gets things right huh.'

'No no no, he'll be fine, just _don't hurt him_ —'

'Fucking rich coming from you, Stark,' Low Voice snorts. There's laughter all round, and Low Voice tips Peter's head upwards, pinching his chin. 'Aww, isn't he a beauty. Where did you find this boytoy?'

Peter opens his mouth to protest but Low Voice sticks his thumb past Peter's lips before he can get a word out. He should bite down, really, but Low Voice forces his jaw opens and it _hurts_. Peter's limbs still feel like dead weight, he can barely lift himself from his current position on the ground. All that's propping him up is Tony, who's next to him, holding on to him.

'He's not a boytoy,' Tony says, taking the words from Peter's mouth. 'He's not _my_ —'

'Excellent, he'll be mine then,' Low Voice sneers. 'Those lips were made to suck cock, might as well be mine.'

_What?_

'You can't, he's not...'

Peter has never heard Tony at a loss for words before. This is a first, and it's something he has never wanted to hear.

'He's a virgin, isn't he?' Low Voice is still holding Peter's jaw open, and Peter whimpers in pain. 'Look what we got here, gentlemen.'

More laughter all round.

'Don't do this,' Tony says, voice quiet. Is he begging? Peter cannot tell.

There's a click of a gun, and then it's pressed to the back of Tony's head.

'Well then, why don't you do the honours?'

There are things that Peter would rather die than ever admit to doing:

1\. Fantasising about Tony Stark  
2\. Masturbating to said fantasies about Tony Stark  
3\. Coming all over himself to said fantasies of Tony Stark

The fantasies usually involve Peter getting down on his knees and sucking Tony off, or jerking him off with his hands. Or sitting in between Tony's legs with his thighs splayed, boxers off, and turning into a moaning, writhing mess as Tony jerks him off.

(Of course, the fantasies had gone further, once in a while. Once in a while, in the shower, sometimes, Peter would wonder how it would be like if it went, you know, _further_. He would bend over, try to get a finger into his asshole, and wonder how it would be like if Tony fucked him. Would it hurt? Probably. Would it feel good? Maybe? Hopefully? Probably a yes, right? A man like Tony would definitely know what to do.)

See, in Peter's fantasies, it usually means Tony _wants_ Peter. Okay, never mind how Tony always sees Peter as a goddamn kid, in Peter's fantasies Tony calls him by his _name_ , thank you very much. And Peter wants Tony, obviously. It's horrifying and embarrassing really, wanting Tony like that. He's supposed to be Peter's mentor. He's nice to Peter and he cares for Peter because he probably sees him as a... Maybe a son at best. Not because he's remotely interested in Peter in any other way, and yet Peter cannot help himself when he fantasises about Tony. It's nice to have someone pay attention to you like that. To have someone praise you, acknowledge that you're doing good, affirm what you're doing. And Tony, despite some of the bullshit that he pulls sometimes, does all that for Peter. Plus he's handsome too. That helps. A lot.

But this, right now? Peter is kneeling in front of Tony, he's regaining his strength, bit by bit, but his limbs still feel as if they are made of stone. He's stroking Tony's cock through his clothes, feeling how Tony's cock grows erect underneath the material, and it isn't even because Tony wants him. Nope, not at all. It's because _bad guys are making them do it_ , and the thought stings. It's bad enough that there seems to be a strange sort of fog over Peter's mind, like this is all happening in another world, and not in reality, but the fact that his brain still recognises that oh, this is a stupid fantasy of his come true? Peter is mortified, and he hates how his cock is stirring at the thought of living out one of the things he has constantly fantasised about. Because fuck, this isn't like what he had always thought it would be. This is doing this against Tony's will. And yet he's getting turned on by this. What sort of fucked up piece of shit is he?

Peter wills himself to concentrate on the task at hand. Concentrate on freeing Tony's cock from the confines of his underwear. He's got to do this. Tony has got to do this. There's the threat of the gun to Tony's head.

 _Come on Peter, get your shit together. Tony Stark is not dying._ Not today. _Not on your watch._

The thing about fantasies is that, well, they're just fantasies. While Peter has seen how people suck cock in porn, once or twice, before feeling mortified that he was watching it while Aunt May was at home, he doesn't exactly have any idea how to do it. He stares at Tony's erect cock, pre-come beading at the tip, and just... How the hell does that all fit into his mouth? What is he supposed to do, kiss his cock first? Go straight into sucking? Okay fuck, here goes. Peter leans in, presses his lips to the tip of Tony's cock. It tastes weird, then again, he's never really tasted anyone before. Himself doesn't count. He stays still, kissing the tip, then he feels Tony's fingers thread through his hair.

'Boytoy here doesn't know how to suck cock,' Low Voice sneers. 'Come on Tony. Teach him. He doesn't have any use if he can't even suck cock.'

Right. _Right_. They're not alone. Stupid, stupid _stupid_ Peter. How could he forget? They're not alone. Stop trying to pretend this is his fantasy. They're doing this because they're going to be shot and they're going to die, and maybe if Peter is a good boy and he sucks Tony's cock well they're going to let them live. The tears well up in Peter's eyes, and he wills them not to fall. No, he will _not_ cry.

'Open your mouth,' Tony says. His hand reaches for Peter's jaw, thumb brushing lightly along his jawline.

Peter listens. He parts his lips, feels the insistent press of Tony's cock into his mouth, on his teeth.

'Wrap your lips around your teeth,' Tony says. 'Open wider. Just a bit more. You can do it.'

 _Of course I can_ , Peter thinks. He does as he's told, feels Tony push his cock into his mouth and struggles not to choke.

'Breathe through your nose. Focus on me. Focus.'

Peter tunes everything out. Tony's voice. That's all that matters. He follows Tony's instructions. Remembers to breathe through his nose. Feels Tony's hand slip into his hair again, to push his head down slowly so that he can fit more of his cock inside. Tries to relax so he won't choke, but he sputters and Tony pulls out. He goes back to kissing the tip of Tony's cock again. Kissing all over. Licking. Tasting the pre-come from Tony's leaking slit, then wrapping his lips around Tony's cockhead again. That he can do without choking. His jaw aches a little, but he can do this. He _will_ do this. For Tony. For the both of them.

There's an insistent tugging on Peter's hair, and he looks up at Tony, confused. Things are coming back into focus now, but he cannot discern the expression on Tony's face. What is it, anger? Pain? Mortification?

'I'm close,' Tony says, breathing harsh.

Oh.

_Swallow swallow swallow swallow swallow swallow swallow—_

Peter can hear the chants of the men around him, despite how hard he had tried to tune them out.

'You don't have to if you don't—'

Someone shoves Peter's head down on to Tony's cock, and that's when Tony comes, painting Peter's throat with his come. Peter gags, his throat burns and tears well up but his head is held down, all he can do is to force himself to swallow, to get it down into his system or else... He doesn't even know what that or else is. He looks up at Tony, vision swimming with tears, but Tony can hardly even look at him.

It doesn't end when Tony comes. Peter's cock is painfully hard in his boxers, he tries to hard to will his erection away to no avail. What would Tony think if he had known that Peter had gotten aroused from being forced to suck his cock? Peter doesn't even want to think about it. He's coughing now, crumpled to the ground in a heap and then Low Voice is back above him again, pushing him onto his back.

'Prepare him,' Low Voice orders.

_Prepare?_

'Prepare him to kick your ass? Because I'm pretty sure he'll do it without—'

Tony's cut off by a swift backhand to his face.

'You really don't shut up, do you, Stark?' Low Voice sneers. 'In that case we can pound that ass raw and WHO WANTS TO TEAR UP A VIRGIN SUPERHERO'S ASS?' he bellows.

'No, please no,' Peter struggles to sit up, only to have Low Voice pin him down with a boot on his shoulder. ' _Please_ , I can't, please no,' he begs, voice hoarse.

'He begs so beautifully,' someone else's voice pipes up, thin and reedy.

'Bet he wants to try someone else's cock for a change.'

'You know what? Fine, _fine_.'

Peter hardly dares to open his eyes. It's Tony's hands, pulling his boxers down, and his cheeks flush in mortification as his cock is freed from its earlier confines, slapping lewdly against his stomach. The shredded remains of his suit are on the ground now, and he's almost entirely naked save for the bits from his calves down, and some on his arms. Right, if he closes his eyes, he can pretend. Pretend that this is nothing but a scene from his fantasy. That Tony is going to do... Whatever it is that he's going to do because he _wants_ to do this. Because he _wants_ Peter. Not because he's being forced to do it. Not because he's going to be shot if he doesn't do it. His legs are being parted, he's vaguely aware that someone is going in between his thighs, and _oh_ —

Peter gasps when he feels something distinctly warm and wet against his asshole. His eyelids fly open, he squirms under Low Voice's boot but he's unable to get away. No, it cannot be. But it is, and oh, _fuck_. 'M-m-mr Stark,' he gasps. 'You can't, _ahhh_ —'

Thing is, Tony can. And he does. He flicks his tongue across Peter's asshole, it's almost smooth and hairless, save for a small dusting of hair nearer to his asscheeks, and then he's pushing his tongue past the rim, tasting Peter. Peter squirms underneath him, he's shouting and yelling and there are other men who come over to hold him down as Tony rims him. Then Tony draws away, spits on his fingers, spits some more, then slowly presses one finger into Peter's asshole.

One finger. Then two. More spit, more and more spit, but from how Peter is squirming it isn't going to be enough. He needs lube to open up, to be properly prepared, but it's not going to happen, not like this.

'That's enough.'

Someone pulls Tony away, and Peter thrashes about as someone else replaces Tony between his legs.

'No, please no,' he begs. Whatever pretence he had is over. There's no going back now.

The man between Peter's legs lines his cock up against Peter's asshole. He pushes in, cockhead stretching the pucker and Peter is screaming, trying to get away.

'Do you really wanna tear him, boss?' the man between Peter's legs asks.

'You can't wreck him if you're the one with the smallest prick here,' Low Voice replies, chuckling.

The man snorts, pushes in slightly deeper before stopping. Then he starts stroking his cock, pumping rhythmically while his cockhead is still in Peter's ass, and it isn't long before he's shouting, pushing in deeper, before pulling out again.

Peter shudders, feeling the man pull out. That was the first time he's ever had anyone's cock inside him. The first time someone came inside him. And it wasn't even someone he remotely cared about. It was some stranger, taking his virginity just because he could. He doesn't want to cry but the tears are rushing up again, and he can hear Tony yelling and screaming but it's all in a garbled mess.

'Got him nice and ready for you.'

There's applause around, and Peter feels sick.

They fuck Peter, one by one. They use his mouth. His hands. His ass. They pull at his hair to tip his head back so they can come all over his face. They push his head down so that he'll choke on their cock and they can make him swallow. Someone decides that it's a good idea to play with his nipples. They tease his nipples, rubbing, pinching, pulling, twisting. Someone sucks a nipple into his mouth, bites down and Peter yells, thrashing hard against the men holding him down to no avail. Some of them have gloves, and they delight in rubbing the rough material against his skin, chafing his inner thighs, leaving red marks all over his torso. His jaw aches, his lips are red and his nipples are swollen and tender from the abuse, and he feels like he's been filled to the brim with how they keep forcing their come down his throat and up his ass.

Throughout it all, Peter doesn't come. The men ignore Peter's cock pointedly, and it bobs up and down, leaking pre-come messily. They fuck Peter's ass, sometimes stimulating his prostate, and sometimes when he's close they stop, or they wrap a hand around his cock, purposely squeezing beneath his cockhead to keep him from coming. He starts to beg, saliva and come leaving a messy trail down his jaw and lips, god he doesn't even know what he's begging for now. For them to stop? To come? For it to all be over and for them to let Tony go?

'Hey kid.'

It's Tony's voice. Peter looks up. He's still held down by the men, now covered in streaks of come all over his body, cock hard and flushed against his stomach. His asshole is struggling to clench down on something that isn't there, and there's come leaking all over on to the floor.

'Mr Stark?' the words don't sound the way they should, but Peter's pretty sure that by now, after all the abuse his throat has suffered, speaking properly is the last thing he's able to do.

'Tony Stark, being shy as he's about to fuck, no, _rape_ the shit out of his boytoy. Look up, Stark. Look at the camera. Why the fuck are you pretending to be a blushing virgin, huh?' Low Voice taunts.

 _Camera._ Peter freezes.

'Hey hey hey,' Tony says, placing a palm on Peter's inner thigh. 'Are you still here with me, kid?'

Peter nods, numb. No wonder the rest of the men have stopped having their way with him. Not because they're satisfied. Not because it's over. Because the real hell has just begun.

'Tony Stark. Iron Man. About to rape a defenceless boy.' Low Voice announces for the camera. 'Look at him. So fucking hard from thinking about pounding the boy's ass. What a fucked up bastard. And you call this man a _hero_. Trust him to lead the Avengers. Fucking ridiculous, eh?'

Peter struggles harder this time, almost manages to push the men off him but they double down. They can't do this to Tony. Tony doesn't deserve this. He doesn't know who the hell these people are, but whatever beef they have with Tony shouldn't be settled like this.

'The boy's struggling, but he's not going anywhere. Of course, not after Mr Stark drugged him.'

 _Drugs_. Right, that explains why Peter can barely function. Why half the time he's unable to protest the way he wants to, fight back the way he wants to.

There's the click of a gun again, and Peter sees it. A man standing behind Tony, gun pressed to Tony's head.

'Please,' Peter says. _Do it. Fuck me. I don't want you to die. It's okay._ He looks up at Tony, willing Tony to meet his gaze. ' _Please_.'

Tony takes it slow. He presses into Peter, inch by torturous inch, hands placed lightly on Peter's thighs. Like he's afraid that he'll break Peter if he moves faster. If his actions are rougher.

Peter wants to tell Tony it's okay. After all that his body has been through, it's okay if Tony just wants to fuck him quickly and get it over and done with. After all, this isn't one of his fantasies come true. This isn't Tony making sweet, sweet love to him after kissing his mouth again and again. This is just Tony being forced at gunpoint to fuck him. That's all. There's no need to treat Peter like this. In fact, Peter would rather Tony fuck him hard. Rough. Wham, bam, thank you ma'am. Get it over and done with. His heart won't be able to take this if they get out of here alive. He'll always look back and think of the time when Tony fucked him like he actually _cared_ about Peter in more than just a... In more than just the way a mentor cares for his protégé. And then he'll just fuck himself over because he's had it and it's not what he should have and not the way it should be but the act has been done and just.

'Harder,' Peter groans, clenching hard around Tony's cock. He bucks his hips forward, not caring what it probably looks like.

'I don't—'

' _Harder_!' Peter shouts. He needs this, it _has_ to be this way. He cannot have Tony being all sweet and tender and being so afraid to ruin him because he's already ruined now. He cannot have Tony being so fucking _nice_ when those belong to his fantasies. Not to something like this. 'Please, _please_ , please,' he begs.

'I don't want to hurt you,' Tony murmurs, soft enough that only Peter can hear.

But well, thing is, that's exactly what Peter doesn't want. That's too much like Tony in his fantasies, that's too much like Tony actually cares and wants him. This time, the tears fall as he shakes his head. 'I can't,' he says, gasping. ' _Please_ , Mr Stark. _Tony_.'

It's as if Peter's words flips a switch inside for Tony. Tony's grip on Peter's thighs are rough, pushing his legs so far up as he fucks him. Thrusts into him so hard, balls slapping against Peter's ass, and _fuck_ —

Peter cries out, feeling the jolt of pleasure. There it is, _again_. And Tony's doing it intentionally as he fucks him, stimulating his prostate. Peter is babbling now, incoherent as Tony continues. Fucks him hard, just like he had asked for. Just like it should be, because this isn't a fantasy. This is real life, and Tony doesn't want him like this. Tony would never want him like this, anyway.

But those thoughts don't matter to Peter's treacherous body. He comes hard, shooting his load all over himself, and on to Tony as well.

Tony comes inside Peter. Peter is hot and wet, slicked up by the sloppy seconds of so many others, but he's still so fucking tight. He collapses against Peter, then belatedly tries to prop himself up with one arm, careful not to press his arc reactor into his skin.

'Kid?' Tony asks, voice soft. He's been careful about this. Not to call Peter by name, because even if they have his face, at the very least, he's not going to give Peter's identity away.

Peter looks up at Tony, cheeks flushed, eyes glazed. 'Are you okay, Mr Stark?'

'I'm sorry,' Tony says, choking up. _I'm sorry I couldn't stop this from happening. I'm sorry I've failed you. I'm sorry you got dragged into this. I'm sorry I did all these things to you._

There's a whirring sound in the distance. Someone's coming, and there's murmuring amongst the men. Sounds vaguely like panic, and then there's shuffling, like they're getting ready to run.

Peter shakes his head. 'It's okay, Mr Stark,' he slurs, as his eyelids flutter close. 'I'm okay.'

**Author's Note:**

> \- sorry kmfillz i meant to post this earlier but real life got in the way ): hope you still like it!!  
> \- title comes from blitzkrieg bop by the ramones.


End file.
